Capital Dilemmas
by sweet magic gal
Summary: Lost personifications of capitals, the nations who want them back and a secret organization behind the scenes. Let's go on a wild ride, shall we? *SYOC*
1. A Sort of Prologue

Hello there! This is my first time doing a story for Hetalia. And guess what? IT'S A SYOC STORY! And now, the prologue!

* * *

A figure walked down a dimly lit hallway. Although the figure showed no clear gender, it was obvious that the figure seemed to be holding something. A door suddenly opened from the end of the hallway. The figure speed walked to it. When the figure got inside yet another poorly lit place, the only actual light coming from the numerous computer screens. Behind a desk, there was a fairly plain looking woman. She seemed to be in her late twenties, with brown hair and eyes. The now unmysterious figure could now be identified. He looked to be a twenty-something, with dyed, gelled, blue hair and grey eyes.

"Have you disposed of them, Jack." The woman said. Jack gulped. It wasn't a question or even an inquiry. It was an order, despite the phrasing.

"No ma'am."

"_No? __**NO!**_"

"Err… yeah. Pretty much." Oh crap, he's screwed.

The woman let out a low hiss. "Is there **any **progress, _Jack_?"

"They no longer remember who they are."

"I suppose that this is acceptable. You may leave now, Jack."

Jack simply nodded and quickly left the office. Once he was a distance away, he sighed in relief.

"Phew! I was lucky to luck out on that!" He began to walk towards a staircase.

"Good thing that _she_ was in a good mood. Thought she was gonna kill me…"

* * *

Meanwhile, sometime later in a café somewhere in Paris, France…

* * *

Sitting near the back of a small café was a fairly handsome blond-haired man. To most café owners, he was neither a regular nor a stranger. To bar owners, they wished him wouldn't bring any of his friends with him. To people that he had "_relationships_" with, he was _very_ good at what he did. To friends, rivals, technical siblings and the audience, has was Francis Bonnefoy, or the personification of France. And what was he doing you might ask? He was drinking a latte, eating a tarte and bemoaning the disappearance of his beloved capital, Paris.

'Wherever you are Paris, I hope you are safe. May we be reunited again soon' he thought.

* * *

As you can see, this is a capital SYOC story! I already have the ocs for Ottawa, Paris, and Canberra. Other than that, go ahead! PMs are preferred . Here's the form! The more detail, the better!

Name:

Capital:

Personality:

Looks:

Clothes:

Nightwear:

Swimmwear:

Business wear:

Formal clothes :

Likes:

Dislikes:

Favourite food:

Talents:

Other:


	2. 4 Girls, 1 horrible Apartment

I could chat about how I've been but this isn't a blog. However, I do want to say that I've gone to my first anime convention (Anime North! Woohoo!) Now with that out of the way, the chapter.

* * *

"Welcome to Burger King. How may I take your order?"

"Large fries and a large Pepsi."

Kayumbi sighed under her breath. _Why_ did she take this job again? Oh yeah. To chip in with the rent. The rent to her crappy-as-hell apartment that barely has hot water half the time. That she shared with three other people? Did she mention that it only had two rooms? And that she had to sleep in the freaking bathrooms she can get early ready for her morning shift at Burger King? And, _omygodwhatkindofsadpityfulfatsohasalargefriesandth edrinkatnineinthefuckingmorningandwhythefuckdon'tw eservebreakfast?! _

She took another breath, plastered on a fake smile and gave the customer their food.

She hated her life. And it sure as hell didn't help that she only had memories of the last few months and nothing of her past. At least she could remember her name.

Well, it could be worse. She thought as she run a hand through her short hair.

She could be homeless.

* * *

"… And there! Voila! You look _fabulous_, Hanna-baby!"

"Ah! But you're the make-up pro, Benny!"

"Pish posh! I only _enhance_Hanna-baby!"

Hanna laughed.

"You are such a _flirt_, Benny!" she giggled, slapping his shoulder lightly.

In all actuality, she wouldn't have chosen modeling as a career. But, y'know, gotta pay the bills, right?

The pay was pretty decent, but after paying some of the rent, food various wants and necessataries, it didn't leave much for _just her_. Of course, barely _anything_ in the apartment was _just theirs_. Heck, she wondered how they all managed to get along. Kayumbi, with her increasing pessimist attitude-although, working at Burger King does kinda suck. Aphrodite, fairly calm almost to the point of it being odd. Estelle, somewhat spacey and runs an Esty store in the apartment. At least it brings in money. The only thing in her opinion that is odder than their dynamic, is how they all don't remember anything from their pasts.

She then gets into position for the perfume ad and is happy that she hasn't been told to do anything too racy.

Time to smile for the camera.

* * *

Here's the list of capitals taken: Ottawa, Paris, Canberra, Tokyo, Washington D.C, Heslinki, Athens, and Nairobi. OC submissions are still open (I'd appreciate some more dudes… Ottawa's the only guy so far…)

Keep them coming in!


	3. Dreaming for you

'Sup. Just a few words; there's still more room for OCs (man do I sound desperate), I'd like some feedback as to how I'm doing, here's the list of capitals taken: Ottawa, Paris, Canberra, Tokyo, Washington D.C, Helsinki, Athens, Reykjavik, and Nairobi, I'd like some dude OCs, and to everyone who been reading: y'all are awesome.

* * *

The store pulsated with the beat of a new Top 40 single. People, mainly teenagers roamed the shelves, picking up CDs. A couple sales associates walked around, trying to look productive with a few actually stopping to see if a customer was in need of assistance. Near the cahier, a short Asian girl was trying to get the employee who was manning the cahier to listen to her. Of course, he was too busy changing the song selection to something that didn't want him to try to injure himself. One would ask why he would work in a music store if he hated the popular trends in music. One would also ask if he was actually allowed to do that. Needless to say, he techanally wasn't allowed, however, the simple fact in which regular patrons of the store could easily tell you.

The manager simply did not care. However, since nobody really cares about the manager, we will go back to the Asian girl and the employee.

"Mike! Hey Mike! Hey Mike! Mike!" the girl cried.

The employee turned around.

"What is it Haruhi?" Mike asked.

"Did Mörda Lampor's newest single come in yet?"

"In the Scandinavian section. By the way, when did you get into Swedish alternative techno-heavy metal-club rock anyways?"

"A few weeks ago. Did Brooke go to school today?"

"Naw. She and Annika took a bus to New York because she found this one guy that can get them fake IDs so they can see the midnight viewing of The Bling Ring because the movie is rated R." he explained, then let out a sigh and hissed cockily so low that Haruhi could barely hear him, "Suckers."

"Hm?"

"Nothing. Hey did you have a strange dream last night?"

"Yeah. The one set in feudal Japan where i'm with that guy that's like in _every dream_" She paused. "Hey Mike!"

"Yeah?"

"What'cha doooooooiiiiiiinng."

"Playing some decent music" answered Mike. Almost immediately, a cover of Brittany Spears' Toxic, done by Blowsight begun to play.

* * *

Elsewhere…

* * *

"Hey Tony!"

"F**king b*t*h"

"So that's a 'no'"

"F**k"

America slumped downed on the sofa. It had been six months since Brooke had been taken and there was still no sign of her anywhere. In fact, there was no sign of anyone's capital _anywhere_. But that couldn't be so right? After all they just _had_ to be _somewhere_ right. He shook himself out of his moping. He couldn't just sit around! He was the United States of America _goddanmit_, he wasn't gonna sit around like a little bitch when he could be productive! When he could _do something!_ But what _can _he do he thought.

"Later Tony. I'm gonna get us some takeout, kay?" he alerted Tony. "I'll be back in an hour, two tops!" America yelled, apparently forgetting that he was at his penthouse in New York and that not only does it not take that long to get takeout, but that he could just call. But he figured that going outside to clear his head would help him out.

Many would say that wandering around New York in the evening wasn't a smart move but, its not like he could get lost in his own country, right?

* * *

Two Hours Later…

America stared at a shady looking store. 'I'm lost'

However, despite the bad vibe he was getting, he went inside. Just to get directions out of this area. Or at the very least, directions to the nearest Chinese restaurant. And in all honesty, the place didn't look _too_ morally corrupt on the inside. 'Thought too soon' he thought, looking at the shelves full of drugs, guns and other basic necessities for a criminal. While he was just about to leave, he saw someone.

Someone that he knew.

Someone he'd been looking for.

Someone who'd been gone for _half a fucking year_.

Someone he _hoped_ had no business with this crowd.

"Brooke?"

* * *

"Vihaan minun tehtäväni." Mumbled Hanna.

Okay, she didn't _really_ hate her job.

She just _really_ didn't want to do this shoot.

First, it was for yet another perfume ad.

Second, she had _no idea_ why_ she_, along with nine other models had to be in this ad, seeing as it was for a band, in which case, shouldn't only they be in the ad. Since it's for _their_ perfume.

Third, she had to wear a cat suit.

_A cat suit. _With _angel wings_ for crying out loud!

So much for not doing any racy shoots.

The only silver lining was that it paid better than her usual shoots. She hoped that no one that would care about using this against her would see it.

After all, Mördar Lampor was only popular in northern Europe despite their world tour.

What are the chances that anyone from those countries would know her?

* * *

Denmark was leafing through a magazine. Of course, no one really knew why Denmark liked this particular magazine. It was a Swedish gossip magazine aimed at _teenage girls_. Definitely _not_ his usual reading material.

Iceland went to sit beside Denmark, eating some licorice.

"Why are you read a gossip mag for teenage girls?"

"Why not, Icey." He continued to leaf through the magazine. He stopped at a particular ad.

"Hey Mördar Lampor's perfume, Inky Änglar is in store-_ohmygoditsHelstinki._" He gasped.

"The modelling agency is based in Los Angeles" Iceland stated. "Personally, I think we should go look for her ourselves, since if Finnland were to see this, he'd freak- _are you even listening, Danmörk_?"

"She looks _**so**_ hot in this picture…" Denmark trailed off, feeling Iceland's glare pierce his head. "Oh! Don't worry Icey, I was paying attention!"

"Good."

At that moment, Mr. Puffin flew in.

"What are ya yappin' 'bout-_ohmygodisthatHelsinki!_"

"Já! Now lets _go_!"

* * *

Mördar Lampor is not a real band. At least, I don't think it is…

Translations (by our neighbourhood translator, Google)

Vihaan minun tehtäväni/I hate my job

Finnland/Finland

Danmörk/Denmark

Já/Yes

The capitals and their human names:

Ottawa(Micheal/Michel/Mike), Paris(Estelle), Canberra(Charlotte/Charlie/Lotte/Char), Tokyo(Haruhi), Washington D.C(Brooke), Helsinki(Hanna), Athens(Aphrodite), Reykjavik(Annika), and Nairobi(Kayumbi/Kay) Ottawa, Paris and Canberra are my OCs.


End file.
